


Like A Virus And It's Cure

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Addiction, Blood Drinking, F/M, Mild Gore, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 11:01:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam tries to convince himself he's not an addict anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like A Virus And It's Cure

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'substance addiction' at [Hurt/Comfort Bingo](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/)

For a while, even after two cold-turkey sessions in Bobby’s lock up, Sam still found himself craving blood. It would come to him just like the urge for a cold drink or a sandwich and he’d find himself standing and reaching for his phone, sometimes getting as far as to hear Ruby’s voicemail telling him she was unavailable, of course she was, she was dead, before he realised what he was doing.

And sometimes, he’d dream of her, her thighs straddling his waist, her vessel so small and delicate compared to the demon inside. He’d dream of being inside her, his mouth pressed to some too-small cut on her arm, drinking her in and pouring himself back into her. Then he’d wake up sweating and shaking, realising it wasn’t supposed to be a dream, it was meant to be a nightmare.

He’d sometimes find himself inspecting her knife a little too closely, not sure if he was checking for even a spot of dried blood or whether he was just trying to remember those times when she’d shove it into the neck of some nameless demon, his reward for all of his good work, all the progress he’d made.

His vision would still blur and his palms would go clammy, like the rest of his skin, at the mere memory of all that blood flowing down his throat, making its way into his own veins, becoming his own blood, becoming part of him. Then Dean or Bobby would catch him, with that guilty look on his face as he tried to rein everything in and they’d ask him if he was alright and he’d lie.

He’d tried to tell himself they were just memories and dreams, his mind playing tricks on him, he wasn’t really addicted anymore but his body disagreed with him, aching for the next hit, a hit that was never coming because Ruby had lied, she’d played him and now she was dead. Her blood was no longer available at the gentle press of a knife. It had died with her, congealing and loosing what made it so attractive.

They’d buried her body. Dean had offered to do it alone but Sam had insisted that he watched, he wanted to make sure she was truly gone. Half of him was in mourning for her and for what she had given him, even though he knew by then that she was an evil bitch. He spent the whole time leaning on a shovel, trying to keep himself together, staring at the knife wound in her belly and wanting to press his face into it, to feel her warm skin and the thrum of energy underneath it. Of course, there would be no energy and her skin would be cold, but he could of pretended.

He tried to tell himself he wasn’t an addict, not anymore, but she followed him around like a ghost. She plagued him like a disease and invaded him like a virus. He craved her blood like it was a cure. He craved her like a painkiller, like drug that would take all the hurt away, just like she had done before.

He might not be an addict now, but he’d never stop being addicted to her.


End file.
